


Welcome Aboard the Daniel Jackson

by SEF



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Canon Related, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-14
Updated: 2010-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 15:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SEF/pseuds/SEF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack thaws.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Aboard the Daniel Jackson

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks: To Destina Fortunato and Carolyn Claire for quick and helpful readings. I'm still to blame, of course.  
> Warnings: Slash but not much in the way of sex. This story is set during New Order, the first episode in season 8.

  
  


Ever wake up shivering in a dark hotel room, toss a shoe at the hyperactive air conditioner, and then shriek like a girl when you roll over and discover someone else sleeping on your side of the bed?

Yeah, me neither. So I wasn't exactly prepared to come to in a cold, hard place with Thor whispering in my ear that my mind had just been interfaced with Daniel Jackson.

Huh? A little interactivity with Daniel's face...not wholly inappropriate in a Sleeping Beauty scenario. But my mind in Daniel's body? _Last _thing I want to put there.

It took Thor a few seconds to recover from the audio feedback. Then he explained that I was flying the Daniel Jackson, v. 3.0. (Eat your heart out, Harlan.) Cool.

Unfortunately, DJv3 communicated with me the same way its namesake did, as in _way_ too much useless information, not nearly enough flight training. A simple news blurb ("Anubis defeated...O'Neill still on ice...Replicators on comeback trail") would have done the trick. But no. I had to be treated to the Asgard version of the rise and fall of civilization.

Fortunately, I was still hopped up from my Evelyn Wood lessons in Ancient talk and technology. Skimming and executive summaries are the way to go with any version of Daniel Jackson, I've found. So it didn't take me too long to find the bottom line: bigger and better guns needed ASAP.

Apparently those Ancient guys weren't the peaceniks they make themselves out to be. I put on my thinking cap and built Thor a WMD in less time than it takes Carter to do her hair. On shampoo day.

I wish I'd had time to fly me to the moon and play among the stars. But my buddy Thor is unusually dedicated to keeping my actual body alive, no doubt for nefarious purposes of his own. One second I was revving the DJ's hyperdrive engines, and the next I was playing Gumby with a goon-sized Teal'c (Now With Hair!!) and carbon-based Daniel v. 1.4. Or is it 1.5? My mind is going. (No doubt hoping for extra mileage and eventually another upgrade to first class.)

Once the meat was thawed out, Thor chucked me into the frying pan. My kind of fire, though: blasting dangerous critters in the woods with my team at my back. Teal'c loves that kind of mission, too. Daniel...not so much, even now. But it's easier on everyone when the targets are a bunch of Legoland spiders gone apeshit.

Anyway, we saved the day and, oh yeah, the galaxy and the Asgard race.

I hadn't had much time to worry about Carter because it felt like about 20 minutes passed between the time when I was waving adios from my popsicle stand to the time when she was smiling up at me and saying "Hello, sir." Daniel and Teal'c had manfully done the command-level worrying. Result? I had to haul Carter up myself because those two were trying so damn hard not to bawl. I, on the other hand, was feeling pretty damn pleased with myself and my team.

Thor beamed us up and Carter, bless her, took over my role as the damsel in distress, a role she hates even worse than I do. We were both going to be in therapy of various sorts for weeks to come, but unlike Carter I was no longer wobbling. There I was, looking forward to a nice visit with Thor during the quick hop to Earth and hoping I could test those thrusters from the commander's chair. And what do I hear? Teal'c, Daniel, and Thor insisting that Carter and I _had to rest._

"_I_ rest when I'm dead," I said, a truth that Daniel at least should have appreciated.

Teal'c's eyebrows rose toward his new hairline. "I will attend to Major Carter," he said to Daniel, meaning _You have your work cut out for you, my unfortunate Tauri friend. _He lifted Carter off her feet and carried her away, ignoring her laughter as easily as her demands.

Daniel turned to me, the picture of heartfelt concern.

I sketched the outline of those fuzzy caterpillars rearing on his furrowed brow. "You know, T still can't touch you when it comes to the hair. But a bicep competition is only going to end in tears. Trust me. I know."

Daniel pushed his glasses up his nose. "I can still take you," he said mildly. "Wanna see?"

What a time to flash back to schoolboy fantasies. "You can't make me."

"O'Neill." Thor doesn't even have any eyebrows, but still I got the distinct impression that he was amused. And determined. "I strongly recommend that you retire to quarters for the time being. Or _I_ will make you."

"Where--" Daniel began.

"The last door on this corridor," Thor said. "I will contact you shortly before we reach Earth."

I swear to God, Daniel licked his lips. Triumphant bastard. "Coming?" he asked me.

In your dreams, buddy. I stood my ground.

Thor wrapped his bony fingers around my elbow. Ouch. I felt a touch of freezer burn. "You are not yet fully recuperated," he said.

"Yeah, OK," I conceded. "I could take a load off."

Daniel grinned, damn him. Thor released me, and I followed Daniel as he swaggered toward the room at the end of the corridor. The man needs more work on his abs. Teal'c never sticks out his belly like that.

We had to duck into the doorway to our suite, but once in the room the ceiling was a good six inches overhead. The bed, however, was at a height more appropriate for ankle-biters than a world-saving Air Force colonel with hinky knees. I eyed the low cushion for a good half-minute before I decided I'd rather sleep leaning against the wall than risk playing the returning hero from a yellow-and-lavender-striped pallet.

When I looked up, Daniel was giving me the evil eye. "Jack," he said. "Christ, Jack. You're alive."

Boy, do I know that feeling. "Annoying, isn't it?"

His face scrunched up, and then he crossed his arms against his chest. "Not the first word I'd choose, no."

"Guess you should have given me some vocabulary tapes to pass the time."

"I was hoping you were _making_ some vocabulary tapes."

"Aw, damn!" I knocked my head and listened for the echo. "Use it or lose it, y'know. Here today, gone tomorrow."

"Jackass."

I shoved my hands in my pockets. "You know, if I were a vengeful man, I'd be calling you 'David' for the next six weeks."

Tough crowd: not even a smile. Daniel sat down on the pallet, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. He looked like GI Joe huddling in Barbie's Dreamhouse. "I didn't think we'd get you back this time," he said. "I thought our luck had run out."

I sighed and let the wall support me as I eased down beside him. "Not today. Today we're good."

He nodded and repeated "Good" like he was trying out the word for the first time. He slumped back against the wall, eyes closed and his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Then...nothing. Not a word, not a look, not a move.

Well, Daniel was probably more exhausted than I was. With luck, he'd fall asleep first and I could use the digicam in his vest pocket to capture some Sleeping Beauty pics of my own. Purely for countermeasures, you understand.

I stretched out my legs, relaxed, scratched my chin, and wondered how long I had gone between shaves...how Teal'c was keeping Carter in bed...why Thor hadn't built an O'Neill 3.0. The sorts of things you have to think about to keep from falling asleep on watch.

"Jack?" Damn. I'd hoped the lack of snoring was not indicative of a breakdown in my plan.

"Daniel."

"What will you do now? Half the governments on Earth will be draping ribbons around your neck. You'll be able to write your own ticket. Do whatever you want."

As if. "How the hell do I know what I want? That's what the chain of command is for. They tell me what I want, and then I know I don't want it. Simple."

Daniel pondered this. "Sounds like a marriage."

"Exactly."

He slid further down onto the bed and clasped his hands behind his head. (Apparently the Asgard don't go for pillows, which is surprising when you consider the hat-size-to-collar-size ratio.) "You don't think that's just a wee bit dysfunctional?"

_Wee?_ "A good argument produces good ideas. And makeup sex. Socrates."

"I don't think that's precisely how Socrates would have phrased it," Daniel said in his best professorial tone.

"Yo mama."

He smiled. "So you're saying that you enjoy having something or someone to push against."

"Stick that in a fortune cookie and bake it. As a life principle, it works for me."

"Fortune cookie?"

Someone had apparently poisoned his mind with that urban legend about "in bed" being the silent amendment to every conceivable Chinese aphorism. "If it doesn't work in the living room, it doesn't work in the bedroom," I said, generously sharing the one clear message I'd gained from marriage counseling. I swear, he looked at me cross-eyed.

"We fight a lot," he said. "Have I given _you_ any ideas?"

I leered. "You don't want to know."

"Don't tell me what I want!" he shot back.

Just like that, he'd mastered my complex verbal strategy. But he didn't know Plan B. Show, not tell, always wins these kind of arguments. So I kissed him.

It wasn't one of my better kisses. Our teeth collided. My breath was, well, _old_ doesn't really cover it. Daniel's arms flew out to grab me by the shoulders and, shit, he's heavy as well as bruisingly strong.

But I didn't get to be colonel because I'm dumb: I got here because I'm a leader and a risk-taker and I know when to step back and let the experts take charge. I figured once we had liplock, Daniel would commence linguistic training, and damn if he didn't. He told me what he wanted in every language I knew, and by the time he rolled me onto my back and released me, I was composing my resignation letter in my head. In gibberish, as my brain was in meltdown, but you get the idea.

"_This_ is what happens when I tell you you can have whatever you want?" he huffed.

I frowned. "Don't ask, don't tell. Just say no."

"So we can fight about it? _No_."

"Attaboy." I shoved my hand down his pants. "Daniel. Listen up. I want you. But I can't have whatever I want."

This was the test. I was praying Daniel was the contrarian I thought he was.

"Jack." He shifted more comfortably into my grip, and I stroked him. For some reason, that seemed to startle him. "Jack," he said softly. "Jack, I...we..."

"What? Say it, Daniel. What?"

His eyes took a moment to refocus. His brain shifted into gear a few seconds after that. "What?" he echoed, a smile playing on his face. "You're asking _me_ what?"

I smiled back, and all the fight went out of him. Deny the battle, win the victory. Hell of a victory. Daniel touched two fingers to my lips and then rolled away. And I let him.

We lay panting on our candy-striped bed. Without looking at me, Daniel reached for my hand and twined his fingers in mine. "Maybe not _whenever_, Jack. But whatever, yes. Whatever you want. It's yours."

I squeezed his hand. "Whatever," I said lightly. "Gotcha."

Daniel snorted. He punished my smartass ways by keeping an iron grip on my hand until he fell asleep a good five minutes later. I listened to him snore for a while and then sat up and carefully levered myself out of bed.

I went back to the bridge and convinced Thor to tell me a bedtime story about time dilation. I listened carefully.

Because if I don't figure out how to get me some _whenever_ pretty damn quick, I'd rather they shoot me in the heart than pin a medal on my chest.

  
  



End file.
